


paradise

by dansunedisco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Depression, Desert Island, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Minor Character Death, Multi, Sleeping Together, Survival, trapped together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 16:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4442156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dansunedisco/pseuds/dansunedisco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The island was fruitful, but severe.</i>
</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Written for the prompt: Allison/Kira/Malia + trapped together on a deserted island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	paradise

The island was fruitful, but severe. There were plenty of palm trees, hanging fat with coconuts, and crabs that washed ashore in the changing tides, but storms came and went often and without warning. An alcove in the mountainside offered shelter, but the rock was uncomfortable to sleep on, and any attempts at a lean-to were promptly blown away in the nighttime winds. It was a miserable existence. It had been two weeks since the plane crash -- two weeks since Allison, Kira, and Malia had fought their way onto the sandy beaches -- and surviving hadn’t become any easier.

Allison thought back to the rainy night that changed her life, heart squeezing as she recalled the sound of screeching metal as their plane had nosedived into the ocean. A rocky outcrop was the only reason they hadn’t sunk below the surface. Their pilot didn’t make it -- nor two others passengers, strangers Allison didn’t know, and never would. She closed her eyes briefly. She was supposed to be on the next island over already, helping Lydia with her destination wedding; maid of honor duties. The first day ashore, Allison was determined they would be found within a day or two. Lydia behind the helm of a search party was bound to be productive, she’d thought. Now, she wasn’t so sure. 

A gentle hand squeezed her shoulder, pulling her out of her gloomy thoughts. It was Kira.

“Are you okay?” Kira asked, sitting down. They had constructed a sitting area out of a plastic tarp that had washed ashore after the initial storm, underneath the shade of some trees. It was just enough space for the three of them to sit above the sand. A small comfort in an otherwise harsh environment. Malia was currently shin deep in the shallows, a homemade spear in hand. She had a bandana tied around her head and looked absolutely at home.

Allison shrugged in response. “I’m just thinking about the flowers.” She swiped at her eyes, embarrassed to feel tears welling up without her permission. “Lydia was very, very specific about the color scheme.” Had she postponed the wedding?

Kira frowned, lips twisting down unhappily. She wrapped a comforting arm around Allison’s shoulders, and Allison turned her face into the crook of her neck. They didn’t say anything more, the both of them watching Malia stab at the water without much luck until the sun sank below the horizon. 

That night was rough, Allison’s thoughts reaching their lowest point yet. Thankfully, no storm rolled in, and the night was mild, but it was hard to feel good about it when, in the end, it hardly mattered. She wasn’t supposed to be on the island -- none of them were -- and every day that passed without a rescue probably meant they were no longer being looked for. She looked up at the stars, bright and unclouded by city lights, and sighed, utterly spent.

She felt an arm snake around her middle, and she startled, but it was only Malia. “You’re shaking,” she explained gruffly, and Allison relaxed into the embrace. She hadn’t realized she was even cold. The three of them had agreed to all sleep together in a pile after the first frigid night, but none of them actively spooned or cuddled -- until now, it seemed. It was nice, the little bit of human contact cheering her up in a way it probably never would have if they weren’t trapped together on a deserted island.

She woke up alone the next morning, neither Kira nor Malia lying next to her on their makeshift cot. She slipped out of the alcove, a mild panic worming its way into her thoughts -- an irrational fear of being completely alone -- but sighed in relief when she caught sight of them a little ways away. They looked like they were making something, Malia waving her hands in exasperation while Kira scrunched her nose. They both looked up when Allison approached, tucking loose hair behind her ears.

“What are you guys making?” she asked. 

“A blanket,” Malia replied, holding up a long plaited piece of leaves. 

“You were cold last night,” Kira explained, shyly. “I read somewhere that the little things can -- help. With keeping spirits up.” 

“Oh,” she said mildly, surprised that they’d been thinking about her in the first place. Then, Allison’s cheeks grew warm as she realized that out of the three of them, she’d essentially been the least useful -- filling her time thinking about the wedding, or the rescue that wasn’t coming -- while Malia hunted for food, and Kira tried to set up shelter for them. She dropped to her knees in the sand and gathered up some leaves for herself. “I’m so sorry--”

Kira cut her off, placing a hand on her wrist. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’ll get through this.”

Malia nodded, mild smile on her face. 

Allison looked between them, hope blooming in her chest for the first time in two weeks, feeling grateful that, if she had to go through this at all, she had Malia and Kira at her side.


End file.
